<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Little Farmhouse by goodwineandcheese</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24653554">The Little Farmhouse</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodwineandcheese/pseuds/goodwineandcheese'>goodwineandcheese</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Monster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death, Child Death, Dad Grimmer, Gen, With A Twist, farm au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:35:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24653554</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodwineandcheese/pseuds/goodwineandcheese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Grimmer is but a humble farmer with a large, and growing, family. The work is hard, the pay is cheap, but he’ll gladly toil day in and out for the sake of the people he loves.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Little Farmhouse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So a friend of a friend saw a picture of Grimmer and their verdict was that grimmer "looks like a humble father of 12 who farms potatoes to provide for his kids and gets harassed by his wealthy merchant boss". And I decided that might as well be an AU and here we are now. </p><p>There are a few minor discussions involving alcoholism/child abuse but it's very tame. </p><p>This has some spoilers to the end of Monster so watch out!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Wow, look how big the sun is in the sky!”</p><p>“What? No! Don’t look at it, stupid. Don’t be stupid!”</p><p>“Ew! What stinks so bad?”</p><p>“<em>You</em> smelt it so it’s you! It’s you!”</p><p>“I don’t know where I put my shoe…”</p><p>“Micah, stop that! Get off me!”</p><p>“I’m so bored I’ll <em>die.</em>” </p><p>There was never a day that mornings were calm, not for Grimmer. Even before he opened his eyes he prepared himself for the commotion that awaited him at first light. Some days were better than others; he could usually tell the mood of the day by the vague sounds that reached him through the door. The loud thudding of feet and raised voices could mean either the children were in a playful mood or that they were very angry at each other. Other days it was eerily silent, but that was usually a sign of mischief. As Grimmer slid out of bed and got himself dressed, he took the time to listen for the morning noise to ready himself for what was to come. This particular morning seemed to be a rather excited one.</p><p>No one was crying, so that was a good start. But it did sound like Micah was bothering Renet. Ah, that was a little bit exasperating...Grimmer was trying his best to raise the boys to play kindly with their sisters, but there were times that he was at something of a loss. Micah was the youngest of the boys and so the most prone to trouble. Not a week ago he’d muddied Anne’s nice green dress. It was a very mean way for boys to find their fun. Though, Grimmer supposed he must have been the same.</p><p>Grimmer stepped into the very busy living room - oh, indeed, it was certainly <em>alive</em> right now - with one hand on his hip while the other scratched at the back of his neck.</p><p>“Come on now, let’s all settle down…”</p><p>His voice was not quite the din of the children, and even he could hear his own voice die as it reached the rambunctious herd. But, even if his voice was uttered so softly, they all did indeed quiet, aware of the tall fellow standing in the hallway. If nothing else, he did have a quieting effect on the children in almost all situations.</p><p>“Papa.” came the soft, almost questioning, voice of Renet. “Micah won’t let go of me.”</p><p>And indeed, the smaller boy had quite a grip on her ponytail, even as he and the others looked up quietly watching Grimmer, almost in a stupor. The tall, tired man simply sighed, relaxing his posture and squatting down to the little one’s height, hands relaxed against his knees.</p><p>“Now, that’s not very nice. I thought I’d taught you better.”</p><p>He spoke softly, but that was almost always enough, he’d found; there was no need to raise his voice if his children listened. He looked around them all, his expression warming into a smile.</p><p>“I suppose the reason that you’re all like this is that you’re hungry. Would that be it?”</p><p>There were a couple shrugs, some shifting on their feet, and one guilty, grumbly tummy. If he wasn’t awake early enough to feed them, the rascals in his home became riotous little disasters. But, it seemed they hadn’t done much damage this morning. At least no one had gone trampling through the fields; the last thing they needed was a ruined yield of potatoes. </p><p>“Well...in that case, what is it you’d like to eat?”</p><p>There was yet another extended silence, this time characterized by what looked like thoughtfulness. Finally, one of the older boys bounced just a little, smiling up at him toothily.</p><p>“Eggs and bacon! Eggs and bacon!”</p><p>There were a series of nods in response. <em>Eggs…</em>well, the kind young farm girl in the next lot over had been generous enough to give them a basket just the other day, claiming it as partial payment to some such “help” he had rendered her, though he couldn’t quite recall. She seemed insistent that he had helped her in a big way, so how something like that could escape his memory…</p><p>But who was he to refuse?</p><p>So, now, he supposed a big breakfast like that wouldn’t be too much to ask for. And besides that, the children deserved something good. It had been porridge for breakfast for days on end.</p><p>“Eggs it is,” he proclaimed, stepping forward and tousling at Renet's mousy, messy hair. She pulled a face, then followed Grimmer into the kitchen. Despite being one of the oldest, she barely stood above the countertop, with just her head peeking up over the stove. But, in a few months, she was sure to hit a growth spurt; it was often early, for girls. But the way she was right now…</p><p>“Why don’t you go wait with the others?” He coaxed, giving her a light pat to urge her along. “I’ll manage breakfast on my own.”</p><p>She looked only a little bit upset, swaying and digging her toe at the ground, but eventually she nodded, turning on her heel and trotting off to join the rest in - thankfully quieter - playtime.</p>
<hr/><p>He was glad to finally get the little ones settled down to eat. The morning was much quieter once the children were fed, allowing Grimmer the time to tend the crops, water the garden, and see to the neighbours. That was something he took quite a bit of joy in; there was a strong sense of community between himself and his neighbours. He could name everyone and their children - though just as often, each referred to one another as little more than their profession; in jest, at least. “Potato-farmer” had a bit of charm to it. And, in times of need, they always came together.</p><p>It was just as Grimmer was getting ready to clear the table that a knocking came to the door.</p><p>Renet slid from her place at the table to get the door, ever the young lady even before ten years of age. She pulled the door open, revealing a tall, familiar man in a trendy suit. The visit wasn’t unexpected, but Grimmer supposed he had lost track of the days. </p><p>Grimmer set aside the washcloth he’d taken out, going to the door to greet the tidy man with a handshake. The bulkier fellow reciprocated the gesture heartily, smiling and peering just over Grimmer’s shoulder.</p><p>“My, my. Might there be even more heads in there than the last time we spoke? I would almost imagine that you were growing children by how they seem to multiply.”</p><p>It was said with a cheerful joviality, but Grimmer could very nearly smell the condescension. It was a common jab that the wealthy merchant seemed to enjoy, certainly more and more of late; it seemed the very idea that Grimmer opened his doors to children that were not directly his own offspring was almost an insult, absolutely baffling to the balding man. But, that was something Grimmer noticed in the wealthy; it seemed that the more money lined their pockets, the less room they had in their hearts. This fellow in particular had a daughter to spoil, and no more than that; the charity of the lesser farm folk was something he simply couldn’t bother himself with.</p><p>“Say what you like. It makes for a rather lively home.” was all Grimmer said in reply. He couldn’t afford to insult the man; the local farmer’s market could earn the family table scraps, but his relationship with wealthy merchants like mister Heinemann were integral to the family’s sustainability. True though it was that he would never shut the door on another man, woman, or child in need, it did mean that there were more mouths to feed. What he earned through his dealings with mister Heinemann served to keep them afloat during trying times.</p><p>There was a harumph from his visitor when the jest was met with little more than a peaceful reply. Grimmer allowed the derision to wash over him, unaffected. He had long learned to bear a thicker skin. The merchant stepped backward, digging into his jacket pocket to produce a package of cigarettes and a lighter. Grimmer’s lip twitched, but he made no move to ask his guest to move outside.</p><p>“My usual percent has been removed, per our agreement. And your earnings, of course, in cash..if you’ll give me a moment...”</p><p>The balding man dug into his other pocket, seemingly fighting with its contents as he took a drag of his cigarette, finally pulling out a thin sealed envelope. Thin, but the bills inside would be enough to last them a few weeks. Long enough for the next visit from the merchants. The man scratched his chin, taking the cigarette from between his lips to blow a plume of smoke.</p><p>“It might weigh a bit more, if you had more goods to deliver.”</p><p>Grimmer shrugged a shoulder, smiling his usual, bright smile.</p><p>“I’ll consider it. But you said it yourself; I do have quite a few mouths to feed.”</p><p>Another harrumph of disdain.</p><p>“Yes, you’ve said as much. And <em>why</em> you see fit to keep growing that number is beyond me. Good day, then. You know when to expect me. We’ll have to discuss pricing. If your yield keeps shrinking, those numbers are going to have to change.”</p><p>He understood that threat, of course; it wasn’t personal, but for a businessman to survive, he had to make a profit. But, between the children in need of a good meal and the lackluster crops this particular year, it was shaping up to be just a little more troubling to stay in the merchant’s favour. Even so, Grimmer did little more than smile and nod and wave him away with a thanks and a hope to do business soon, as he always did.</p><p>And, as usual, it was only once he was gone that all the children bothered to poke their curious heads out to watch him depart.</p><p>“I think that guy is really bad.” came the matter of fact, deadpan voice of Micah. Grimmer couldn’t help but smirk.</p><p>“And why would you say that…?”</p><p>There was a pause, the young boy genuinely quite thoughtful as he considered his answer.</p><p>“His voice sounds not nice, and also he’s got bad guy eyes.”</p><p>Well, the <em>first</em> part Grimmer could understand. And even the second part...in the eyes of a child, the beady-eyed schemer was probably a sign of something ‘really bad’. Grimmer found himself chuckling all the same, reaching forward and tousling messy hair.</p><p>“You’re definitely right about all of that. But, it’s okay, because if he’s ever <em>especially</em> mean, I know you won’t let him get away with it.”</p><p>There were several loud <em>yeah!</em>s, though of course he knew they would be as timid as ever, at least for a few more years. If they ever hoped to stand up to Udo Heinemann, they needed to grow at least a foot. And by then, perhaps they would come to realize just what it was Grimmer defended by allowing himself to be bowed down. There was more to life than pride, after all. And if being cowed by the wealthy class meant he could support the people he loved, he would continue to swallow that pride. Family was far more important.</p><p>He ushered the children outside with a smile.</p><p>“Now, let’s get to chores. And then, once we’ve all done our work, I’ll play a game with you. I’ve been getting better at that kick-ball game of yours. I might even score this time.”</p><p>He knew he wouldn’t, but the suggestion riled them up, got them geared to help him out for a little while. Many though they were, Grimmer certainly knew how to keep his little herd under wraps.</p>
<hr/><p>That night, the little farmhouse was faced with a terrible storm.</p><p>The rain came in dregs; enormous, bulbous droplets hammered into the roof and the siding like thunder, an endless stream that rocked even Grimmer from his sleep. Wind whistled and howled, churning the air and causing the distant trees to bend and creak. White, bright flashes of lightning sparked through the sky, turning the night near as bright as day, while the booming clap of sound rumbled through the house.</p><p>It was a terrible storm indeed, certainly the worst that Grimmer had felt in a very long time. An omen, perhaps. But it brought much-needed rain for the crops.</p><p>The sounds of much smaller patterings came creeping by Grimmer’s door, and as he rose from bed and lit his bedside lamp, it was to see a small huddle of his children in the doorway, still adorned in their nightwear, with sad little pleading looks in their eyes. It was not the first time the smaller ones would come to him for comfort and it probably wouldn’t be the last.</p><p>Grimmer sat upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and patted the wide space beside him. The children needed no more invitation, rushing toward their father and flinging themselves onto the bed, each squirming in an effort to snuggle just a bit closer to the man as yet another flash of light streaked across the sky.</p><p>“Don’t fight, just...each of you, hold tight…” Grimmer breathed, putting his arms around the little collection of children that had gathered into his sides. He allowed his fingers to thread gently through messy tangled locks, taking turns with each precious head of hair. In his arms, they found comfort and curled up there, shutting their eyes as the heavens unleashed its torrent outside. Grimmer surely was no match for this wicked weather; if their roof were to be torn from their comfortable little home, he most certainly couldn’t protect them from its rains and winds. But even knowing that, the little ones felt safe by his side, and so Grimmer became strong enough to defeat a monsoon, just for them.</p><p>“What if it rains so much…” came a little, hiccupped voice, as a small warm body squirmed amidst the mass. “What if it rains so much we’re underwater? And then we can’t get out…”</p><p>Grimmer hummed, glancing down at the freckled little boy who had uttered such charming nonsense. He tucked wispy little hairs behind his ear and cupped his cheek.</p><p>“Then we learn to breathe in the water.” he answered simply, as matter of factly as though there were no other answers. And while the little boy’s mouth hung open in confused shock, Grimmer maintained his gaze with such unwavering confidence that, really, it <em>had</em> to be the answer. He ruffled the boy’s hair, pulling the lot of children just a bit closer when there was an especially loud crack of sound.</p><p>“If the rain floods, then we’ll learn to breathe underwater like the fish do. But until that happens, we should just think about how much water the crops are getting. Don’t you think they’re happy? It’s been dry for quite a while. The potatoes were all very thirsty, so I think they’re feeling much better now. But, as for the lot of you…”</p><p>Grimmer looked up through the window, sighing. He knew he was going to regret it, but…</p><p>“You can sleep in here tonight, if you like, with me. Would that make you feel better?”</p><p>There was a moment of quiet, then a few mumbles in assent. Grimmer gave them each a little kiss, pulling his blankets down from the bed. If they were going to sleep together, it would be easier, better, to do it on the floor. It was definitely a poor choice for his back, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep very well with the lot of them huddled up together there, but if it meant they were put to ease, then he would do it.</p>
<hr/><p>The next day came with a bit of excitement.</p><p>Grimmer had risen early - not unexpected, sleeping in a messy bundle of children - and saw fit to check the fields and the garden. After such a heavy rainfall, he anticipated the ground might still be damp even hours later.</p><p>What he found in the fields was a little girl.</p><p>She was young, though certainly not the youngest of the lot that he had taken in. Seven, perhaps. The gown she was wearing was covered in mud, torn in places, and she had bruises and scrapes on her arms and legs. As Grimmer crouched by her side, she stirred, sitting up and reacting almost violently, flailing her arms, though they did little more than bounce off the taller man’s chest. Even so, Grimmer sat back, raising both hands so that she could see them.</p><p>Clearly she had been through a very rough night. By the state of her, he might have guessed that she ran away. He definitely didn’t recognize her; she wasn’t from the village. Possibly from the town over, then; it was the only place that a child could conceivably have run from on nothing but her feet.</p><p>“It’s all right.” he said, slowly. He kept his hands in full view, hovering, palms out. “It’s okay. You’re scared, but that’s okay...you’ll be okay here.”</p><p>He left it just at that, giving her a moment to drink in those words. Explaining anything more, or asking questions, could wait until she was calm. But, it didn’t seem like that was going to be anytime soon; she was fidgety, nervous, eyes flicking about warily. It seemed like she was looking for something, or for some<em>one</em>. Grimmer leaned backward, planting one foot and letting both hands fall to rest behind him as he watched the young girl.</p><p>“The only people out here right now are you and me. And probably the birds, I think.” Again, he spoke slowly, turning a small smile her way. “Whatever you’re running away from isn’t here.”</p><p>Her lip quivered, and she froze, but at least she seemed to slowly relax as she realized that, yes, right now she was alone with the tall farmer. Grimmer brought both hands up to circle around his knee, his expression a little more severe now, as he looked her over. He didn’t speak, but the girl seemed to understand what he was waiting for. She relaxed her posture, looking down at her lap as she balled her hands against the fabric of her dress.</p><p>“I was really scared. He was being scary again. Mom told me one time, that if he got like that, that if he did that again, that I should run, so I ran. I didn’t even change or put on my shoes. I wanted to get away as far as I could, or else he might try to find me.”</p><p>Her voice came out quietly, though it was surprisingly steady - a direct contrast to the way her shoulders shook. No doubt it was a concentrated effort. Big, youthful eyes looked up toward Grimmer then, the saddest shade of green he’d seen in a while.</p><p>“Now I’m here. I don’t remember the rest. I just kept going and going and I think Mom’s still…”</p><p>There it was, the crackle of pain that he knew was coming, but broke his heart to hear nonetheless. The young thing folded in on herself, shaking in a huddled heap.</p><p>“I don’t...know where I am. I’m scared...he’ll find me, and it’ll be worse this time. I'll be punished for running away. I don’t wanna go back.”</p><p>Grimmer couldn’t very well leave her like that, small and frightened and alone. Moving slowly, he shifted forward, collecting the curled up figure against his side. She seemed tense at first, but was quick to melt into the embrace, even if she still seemed timid, shaken. But if the situation was what Grimmer thought, he could understand that response.</p><p>The “him” she kept referring to was probably her father. It wasn’t an unfamiliar tale; the man who drowned himself in liquor becoming angry, taking it out on his family - in this case his daughter, if not his spouse as well. The girl was so young, certainly <em>too</em> young to endure something so horrid. Grimmer drew small circles against her shoulder with light brushes of fingertips.</p><p>“I can promise that no one will take you anywhere you don’t want to go. If anyone comes here looking for you, the people in this village will definitely send them away. No one’s going to hurt you.”</p><p>It didn’t seem to do much to calm her down, but he could hardly ask her to relax when his words were little more than platitudes right now. He would have to prove the rest himself.</p><p>Though, perhaps there was one thing he could do for her, something she might like.</p><p>Grimmer pulled back so that he could look her in the eye. For what it was worth the girl wasn’t crying now, and her eyes weren’t especially puffy; as upset as she was, she hadn’t cried very much. Grimmer managed a look of encouragement.</p><p>“Do you think you can stand?” he asked, reaching toward her hand, though he didn’t take it outright. “There’s something really pretty I’d like to show you. I think you’ll like it.”</p><p>After just a few moments, the girl took his hand. Her much smaller fingers were shy, he barely felt the touch at first, but the grip tightened and she pulled herself up to her feet. For however much she was frightened of her father, she at least seemed comfortable with Grimmer. He was glad of that.</p><p>Grimmer walked slowly, heading toward what really probably was his favourite place in the village. He liked to think of himself as an amateur gardener, and tended some very pretty varieties, but it was nothing by comparison to <em>this</em> place. Just over a hill beyond his cozy farmhouse was a vast meadow, with rows and rows of flowers that spread as far as the eye could see. It was almost magical, and as the duo stepped into the midst of those flowers, he could see the glimmer of wonder in the little girl’s own eyes, a look reflected in his own gaze. He let go of her hand, watching her explore for a little while. </p><p>“No matter how often I come here, it’s always awe inspiring. It seems to be different every single time. Flowers I’ve never seen before spring up out of nowhere.”</p><p>Grimmer stood still, closing his eyes, his hair swaying lightly in the breeze. The young girl stopped to watch him.</p><p>“If you listen close enough, the wind almost sounds like voices here. You can hear them, if you concentrate.”</p><p>He did, and so did she. He was almost positive that there were voices whispered here, somewhere, ghostly echoes from some other time. He could never quite catch the words, but he could certainly <em>feel</em> something - strong emotions, and the barest hint of distinct voices. Whatever they meant, they seemed to evoke such strong feelings in Grimmer. He felt almost as at home here as he did at the farmhouse, minding the crops with the children.</p><p>Ah, speaking of whom…</p><p>“If you’d like,” he murmured, and the little girl looked up. “You’d be welcome to stay with me. It’s a little bit of a full house; there are quite a few of us living together, and it’s hard sometimes when the crops spoil, but we get by. And no matter what, I would never refuse someone who needs a place to stay. I think you could find a place here, in the village.”</p><p>Perhaps it was the calming magic of the wild garden, or Grimmer’s own inherent charm, but it only took a short bit of consideration for the girl to agree. She nodded, turning back toward the place they had come from.</p><p>“I...I think I want to. I’ll stay with you.”</p>
<hr/><p>It seemed like only days ago that they had taken Breanna into the fold. <em>Seemed,</em> but surely much more time had passed; she was no longer the timid little thing she had been, and was eager to help out about the farm, and even earned a little extra on the side helping the other village folk.</p><p>It seemed fate that she would fall so perfectly into place, so ideally into their little family, just as Martin, eldest of the boys, chose to leave the nest. </p><p>He was growing into a fine young man, and while he was handy around the farms, he was ready for something more. And, Grimmer could understand; it was often the way of things here. Eventually, the young ones grew up, and were ready to move on, to go out and see what was to be seen. He had watched many more of his own young girls and boys grow and leave, and so Martin’s departure was just the same as any other.</p><p>Even so, it was never easy. Not for the boy, and not for him. It was always hard, letting go of family.</p><p>“I know I said I was ready. I know I did. But...” </p><p>That was how Martin began - that sort of phrasing was never a promising start, but Grimmer had grown accustomed to hearing it. Not everyone could be confident as they spread their wings. Grimmer reached out, put a hand on each of Martin’s shoulders.</p><p>“Moving on is hard. You’ve grown so used to this place...you grew up here, after all. But, in the end, this is <em>my</em> place, isn’t it?” He smiled, tucking strands of hair behind the uncertain young man’s ear. “You talked about how you wanted to grow up to study languages and go places. Now, you can go do those things. And then you’ll be able to make your own place.” He clapped his shoulder. “Don’t be shy, now.”</p><p>Martin made a small sound of discomfort in his throat, following up with a big, big hug. </p><p>“Promise you’ll get better at football?”</p><p>“I promise.”</p><p>Martin still seemed a little bit unsure, but at least he understood the message. He stood a little straighter, swallowing hard, squaring his shoulders.</p><p>“I’ll try to come back and visit again.”</p><p>It was a touching thought. Though, Grimmer had his doubts; once his little ones grew up and moved on, a new chapter for them had begun, one that no longer included Wolfgang Grimmer. His role to them was fulfilled and that was enough.</p>
<hr/><p>No sooner than goodbyes were said for Martin, than a new, precious face came to Grimmer.</p><p>This time, it was different; where each of his other foundlings travelled to him in some way, this new face was far too little to do so on his own. It had been the sweet young farm girl in the next lot who carried such precious cargo to him, her usually bubbly face distraught and deeply worried. At first Grimmer had thought something might have happened at her farm - the chickens attacked by dogs, perhaps; it wouldn’t surprise him for something like that to happen. But, instead she brought with her a babe, small and helpless. Certainly not hers, she had vehemently assured him of that, but a child that she had found after feeding her hens.</p><p>“I don’t suppose you have room for him?” she asked, with bright blue pleading eyes. “I don’t know what to do with babies…”</p><p>She had practically thrust the babe into his arms, but Grimmer took him gladly, the child fitting neatly, snugly, into his arms. He couldn’t help the fond smile that flitted at his lips.</p><p>“Of course I do.” he murmured, something starting to swell inside his chest. “You know I could never refuse a guest. Even one so little. Though I expect I’ll be quite busy, with a baby around.”</p><p>The girl chuckled, idly pulling fingers through her hair with just a little nervousness about her.</p><p>“It must be hard for you, with all those kids, all alone. It might’ve been easier if that doctor or the man with the scary face had come with you here, but I guess it just wasn’t meant to happen that way…” She shrugged, turning a smile his way. “But I’m here, and that probably won’t change any time soon. So if you ever need a hand, you know where to find me.”</p><p>She left, then, but Grimmer…</p><p>Well, he couldn’t say he knew what she meant by any of that. What <em>doctor</em> this was, or the...what had she said, man with a scary face?</p><p>Grimmer could recall neither such individual having ever visited this village. Even so, it was possible that there <em>had</em> been a visit, and he had simply never met either of them. </p><p>Something about that entire interaction felt just a little strange.</p>
<hr/><p>Grimmer took the infant in his arms back to the farmhouse. The children seemed to know he was coming, with Renet and Micah at the door. Another face peeked beyond the door, brightly smiling little blond head of hair disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared. </p><p>Grimmer stepped inside with his small bundle, settling down in a chair to look at the infant in his arms. He found himself quickly swarmed by the girls, ever eager to fawn over what was very clearly a baby that he carried, sound asleep despite the racket.</p><p>“The lot of you wouldn't happen to...ah….”</p><p>Grimmer found himself speaking before he could even think to stop himself, and all children in the room had their attention focused on him.</p><p>“...You wouldn’t know anything about a ‘doctor’, or a man with a...a ‘scary face’, that might have visited the village?”</p><p>His curiosity had gotten the better of him. It seemed there was no harm in asking, though as he expected there were no answers forthcoming. He supposed that the farm girl had gotten just a bit too much sun, must have misremembered something.</p><p>Eventually the other children’s curiosities faded away, and the small herd dispersed to go play that kick-ball game  - ah, <em>football,</em> leaving him almost entirely alone. Only one of the boys was left, lying down on the floor with a piece of paper and a mess of crayons. It was that one particular curious mop of light gold that had tried to sneak a look at the baby from the doorway. His attention now seemed almost entirely focused on whatever he was drawing. Grimmer peered over his shoulder to see a very...well, well a very <em>childishly</em> rendered woman, with long blonde hair and an especially triangular face, and questionable anatomical correctness.</p><p>Just then, the little boy looked up, big blue eyes staring deep into Grimmer’s.</p><p>“The doctor man and the scary person didn’t come here.”</p><p>For just a moment, he felt shocked in place. Grimmer blinked, mouth falling open. The dear boy went back to his drawing as though nothing strange had happened just then.</p><p>“They didn’t come here, because they still had lots of places to go, so they couldn’t stop. That’s why they’re not here.” He looked up again, with a toothy grin. “But that’s okay.”</p><p>He held up his drawing for Grimmer to look at and, despite himself, he couldn’t help but laugh.</p><p>“It’s my mom. It’s what she looked like I think. Is it good?”</p><p>Objectively it was no masterpiece, but the act of creating a picture was, itself, truly a human marvel. Grimmer nodded, rocking the infant in his arms.</p><p>“I think if your mother were here, she’d say it looks just like her.”</p><p>With that, the boy scampered off, leaving Grimmer alone to ruminate on his thoughts alone.</p>
<hr/><p>The night began peacefully enough. Grimmer had turned in early, exhausted from the day, trusting of his children to manage things while he slept.</p><p>It was much later, far into the dead of night that he was awoken by the lonesome sound of an infant’s cries.</p><p>The sound gripped his heart, and he found himself swiftly stumbling out of bed to the makeshift crib the little one now lay in, crying and crying, ever so restless. Grimmer reached down, picking up the little one carefully, letting him rest in his arms. He fit there almost perfectly, warm and wriggling against Grimmer’s chest.</p><p>“There, there, there….shush, now….”</p><p>Grimmer cooed to the infant, sitting down on the edge of the bed and rocking him. It was slow, a small and soothing movement that came along with soft nothings of his voice. He couldn’t say just how long it took, but eventually the infant in his arms became restful again, his little head cozied in the crook of Grimmer’s arm. With one hand, he reached up and drew his thumb along the child’s face.</p><p>But something...something about this wasn’t right. He could feel it, again, the strangeness of agonizing pain in his chest. Something deeply sorrowful had enveloped Grimmer, searing behind his eyes, weighted in the small body he now held in his lap. Something about this entire moment was so very <em>sad.</em></p><p>He could hear quiet sobs, felt something shaking, then realized that both belonged to him, that <em>he</em> was shaking, that <em>he</em> had begun to cry.</p><p>He didn’t know why.</p><p>He couldn’t say why he was in such pain, so drowned by anguish, but he was. The infant in his arms needn’t witness him this way, and yet he couldn’t control it, couldn’t help himself.</p><p>Something warm took his hand, startling Grimmer back into awareness.</p><p>There was no infant in his arms; he was back in his crib, restful as before. Instead, the young blonde boy was sitting beside Grimmer, gripping tightly onto his hand.</p><p>“It’s okay.” he said, in a tone that was unusually calm and adult, probably intended to soothe. “It’s going to be okay.”</p><p>Grimmer glanced back toward the crib, toward the infant whose wellbeing seemed to have stolen the entirety of his attentions since his arrival.</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>The words slipped out without thought. Were he in his own mind, he would never burden his children with questions like that; he was strong for them, he allowed them to rely on him. But right now, he felt helpless and fragile. The boy hopped down from the bed, walking over to peer down into the crib.</p><p>“Because you’re the one taking care of everything here. For him and for everyone else. And you’ve done a really good job so far.”</p><p>There was still something strange about that boy, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Still, the words of assurance managed at least to calm Grimmer down, to put his mind to ease. He drew a hand down his face, looking up slowly, letting his hands rest leisurely in his lap.</p><p>“You seem to know quite a bit.” he murmured, recalling once again that discussion about his…’doctor’ friend, a memory he didn’t seem to have. Grimmer shook his head. “Right now it feels like I don’t know anything. Like I’ve forgotten something.”</p><p>The small blonde boy nodded, looking toward the window, at the dark, dark sky.</p><p>“You have. There’s a lot you don’t remember. But when things are a bit scary and there’s a lot, you say to take it slow and try to think about just one thing at a time. So maybe that’ll help you too, if you try.”</p><p>It was sound advice. Advice he didn’t remember giving, but sounded like something he would say. </p><p><em>One thing…</em>focus on just one thing. He started with that odd discussion with the farm girl; a “doctor” and a man with a “scary” face….two people he should know, that were friends of his. Two people who never came to this village, but were somehow his friends. </p><p>Thinking back, Grimmer couldn’t say he had ever been outside of the village. He had always lived here, tending the farm, raising his children. As his nest emptied, there would be more that found their way to him - lost, confused, afraid, and he always took them in.</p><p>But he couldn’t say...that he remembered anything, before that.</p><p>Couldn’t say that he recalled being a child himself.</p><p>His own parents.</p><p>“I don’t suppose…” he breathed, eyes closed, concentrating on keeping his composure as he cycled through confusing thoughts. “I don’t suppose you know when I took over the farm.”</p><p>At first, there was no answer. Grimmer opened his eyes, catching gold hair in early morning sun-rays. The boy only shook his head.</p><p>“It’s always been you, no one else. This is your place, you said so.”</p><p><em>His</em> place. Yes, he did remember that. He’d said exactly that to Martin.</p><p>“I don’t <em>remember</em> anything else. Where I was born, or grew up. My own childhood.”</p><p>The blonde boy nodded, and the look in his brilliant blue eyes was uncomfortably knowing.</p><p>“I don’t know about any of that, but I know that you were really hurt then. It hurt so bad that most of it got erased. You probably won’t remember that even if you try.”</p><p>“After, then. After...after….there was something, between that time, and where I am now.”</p><p>The boy shuffled his feet, shrugging and looking at the floor.</p><p>“I don’t know about that either. But the person you are now is someone I love a lot, and who’s kind. So I think you probably did good things and met good people and then came here.”</p><p>“People like the doctor and the scary man.”</p><p>The boy nodded. This time, as Grimmer closed his eyes, he could feel a little bit of something; a kind of feeling, when he thought of them. Something familiar, and a little bit longing. It felt close, now; he felt like he was almost there, could almost say who they were. </p><p>“And would you know where they are now?”</p><p>There was another pause, the boy pressing his lips together and shaking his head, an expected answer.</p><p>“Not here.”</p><p>That….now, that was something, a question all its own. <em>Here…</em>he’d never much stopped to think, but this ‘village’...this place he was now...he couldn’t quite say where he was. Beyond the village, he had no idea what the world was shaped like, and somehow that felt…<em>wrong,</em> for him.</p><p>This place was “his” place...but what did that mean? All of this….everything about it was…</p><p>“And where is ‘here’?”</p><p>That was the question...that was what this all came down to. It was a question he felt like he wasn’t supposed to know, but something that he <em>needed</em> to know. And as soon as he asked it he could feel something change, the air around them, everything, as though it had all gone still, except for him and that boy.</p><p>“It’s a place that you made. There was nothing here, but you decided to turn it into this. It used to be just the two of us, then the nice girl came to live here too, and now people show up from time to time. Other people like me, and Breanne, and Renet, and Micah, and like him.”</p><p>The both of them turned toward that crib, toward that infant child. It was starting to fall into place, now. Grimmer closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.</p><p>“How long have I had this place?”</p><p>There was more fidgeting, then a shrug. “Don’t really know. It’s hard to keep track here, stuff happens really fast then really slow sometimes, it all just blurs together. At least a few years.”</p><p>Grimmer felt himself chuckle, but it seemed a little hollow in his chest.</p><p>“Do you suppose that...the people that I left behind...that they missed me, when I left.”</p><p>There it was again, that sharply knowing look. The blonde boy stood tall then, walking toward Grimmer, reaching out to grab his hand.</p><p>“A lot of people still miss you, even now. They come to see you, and leave you flowers. Someone’s there right now, do you want to go see?”</p>
<hr/><p>The young boy led them barefoot through the field, up the hill, and toward the majestic garden that Grimmer had shown to Breanne the last time he’d visited. They came to a stop once they were solidly in the middle of the field of flowers, watching them sway. But exactly what they had come to see, Grimmer wasn’t quite sure. He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly shushed by the boy.</p><p>“If you’re quiet, you’ll hear it. So just listen.”</p><p>He couldn’t very well argue; this entire scenario was just a bit surreal. So, he listened.</p><p>And this time, the voices on the wind were crystal clear.</p><p>
  <em>Mr. Grimmer…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s been a while, I’m really sorry. I meant to come see you sooner. But I have good news this time, I thought you should know. I made chief...I’m sure that when you first met me you must’ve thought I was too naive, and incompetent, and not really much of anything...but because of you and Mr. Lunge, I’ve gotten to be where I am now.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I just really wanted to thank you again...I wouldn’t be alive, if it weren’t for you. You taught me a lot, even if we only knew each other for a little while. And...and that’s it, I guess, I don’t think there’s anything new to report except for that. I thought that we...everyone, that is, that we might have a picnic together. Tenma said that you always talked about doing that.</em>
</p><p>As the voice faded, new flowers seemed to bloom from the earth, sprouting out of nowhere to join the massive garden that already flourished. White and blue and pale yellow blossomed around them. And Grimmer...Grimmer could put a name to that voice. He could put a face to it That was a boy...a police boy, Jan Suk….the chief, now. He felt some part of him swell in pride.</p><p>More voices came, but they were echoes, things left behind from other visitations. Even so, he could hear them clearer now, distinct voices that belonged to faces, to names, that he knew.</p><p>
  <em>I brought Dieter to meet you this time. He’s always wanted to meet you, ever since I told him how you used to play football with those boys in Prague. And I...I’ve been keeping busy, of course. But I try to make time to enjoy life. If there’s anything I learned from you, it’s to cherish the quiet moments.</em>
</p><p>...</p><p>
  <em>I believe most all I can say to you has already been said. You’ll be glad to know the doctor has been doing well in the MSF. I have been rather occupied as an instructor, and as a grandfather. I have been doing my best to keep in touch with family these days.</em>
</p><p>They were people that he knew….those very two, the doctor, the man with the scary face. Tenma, and Lunge. And then one more...one last voice joined them, feminine, hesitant.</p><p>
  <em>I'm...I’m sorry, Wolfgang.</em>
</p><p>Sorry...sorry….her, <em>that</em> voice…</p><p>The blonde boy with him now...the same boy that had drawn that picture of the woman...a boy who seemed, strangely, to know so much, certainly more than he should. </p><p>For the second time, Grimmer found his face wet with tears, as he knelt amidst the flowers. He felt that small hand, so warm as it gripped his own.</p><p>“Now you know." he said simply, softly, allowing a moment's pause. He looked up at Grimmer with those lovely blue eyes. "A lot of people are scared and lost and confused when they die. So they come here. You...you keep them company and help them to heal and get better, and grow, until they’re ready to move on.”</p><p>Grimmer took a slow, shaky breath. He opened his eyes, looking squarely, somberly at the boy beside him. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.</p><p>“<em>You</em> never moved on….<em>or</em> grew up.”</p><p>The way that the boy’s gaze flicked away answered the question he hadn’t bothered to answer. This boy...this one child...this <em>was</em> his son, here, in this place, with him. The other children grew and aged and eventually left, but he...he was the same. He was always the same. </p><p>Grimmer felt those fingers squeeze his hand once again, their eyes meeting.</p><p>“You imagined me this way.” he answered, equally softly. “I’m not here for me to move on. That happened a long time ago. I'm here to stay with you until you’re ready to let go.”</p><p>Grimmer...gasped or shuddered, both at once, lowering his gaze, eyes squeezing shut once more, both hands moving to grip the boy’s shoulders, pulling him close. He held that boy against himself, feeling how warm, how alive he seemed. Admired how beautiful he was. How kind he was. How much he had grown. Grimmer felt the weight of all of those things crush him, slowly, his shoulders sagging.</p><p>“I don’t....know that I <em>can</em> let you go.”</p><p>It was ugly…selfish, a horrible thing for him to say. He should want to let his son go...if this <em>was</em> truly his son, and not a figment he created. But he felt...it felt as though he didn’t deserve that, to let go. What happened to his son was something he had allowed, something he couldn’t let himself erase. Certainly he couldn’t forgive himself to move on, not now. But more than that, to have his son here, with him, like this...to have just this...</p><p>Small arms reached up and wrapped around him, drawing him as close as he drew the boy in. He could feel as the child planted a kiss to his forehead.</p><p>“That’s okay. I’m happy here with you, and I’ll be happy as long as you need me to be here.”</p><p>Grimmer pulled the boy just a little closer, the tense feeling in his chest finally, slowly, starting to unravel. Now that he knew...now that he understood...this place wasn’t just his farm. It was a sanctuary of sorts, a place for children too soon passed to come to grips with their fate. He created a life for them, a world where they could live as they started to understand what happened. A world with challenges, conflicts, with hardships, lifelike enough that it could ease the transition.</p><p>Grimmer’s thoughts were interrupted by soft, tentative footfalls. He and the boy both looked up, revealing the young farm girl that he so doted on. Seeing her now, though, <em>recognizing</em> her from that place so long in the past, brought a sort of anguish to him, a different kind.</p><p>“I failed you, too.” he breathed, but she seemed unaccepting of his words, kneeling down beside him and leaning into his side, joining the embrace.</p><p>“You gave me <em>hope</em>, and you made me happy. I felt safe around you. That meant a lot to me. So that’s why I decided to stay here, so I could stay close to you and help you out, like how you helped me.”</p><p>Somehow...somehow she was grateful to him. This girl...a girl whose name he never even knew, who never knew his name, who never knew the name of his son….and now, together, they were here in this beautiful place, this world between worlds.</p><p>Grimmer didn’t know if he deserved any of it, but he was certain that the children did, each and every precious child that came into his home deserved the peace they found here in this place. And so for them, for every other child that had ever lived under his roof, and the children that would continue to join him, he would never stop doing what he did.</p><p>If this little farm could somehow bring peace to those precious souls, then it would continue to stand, for as long as it was allowed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So exactly HOW "cute potato farm dad with 12 kids" became "actually Grimmer died and now he watches over the spirits of kids that pass on in a farm on some spiritual plane of existence" I'm not really sure but that's what happened. I like to think that his <em>real</em> son did in fact move on and the boy that is with him is more just a projection he created (that may eventually fade). Also when Tenma eventually dies he totally joins Grimmer at the farm.</p><p>Also, in case it didn't come across: the "magical" field of flowers is a manifestation of the bouquets people leave at his grave :') where he's buried is basically a "connection" to the real world.</p><p>When this was a regular "grimmer but he's on a farm" AU there was going to be more actually involving said mean merchant boss and tbh I would almost want to write just a normal cute farm AU...but some weird brain part couldn't resist whatever tf this is so alas.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>